It seemed that out of battle I escapedDown some profound dull tunnel, long since scoopedThrough granites which titanic wars had groined.Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned,Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred.Then, as I probed them, one sprang up, and staredWith piteous recognition in fixed eyes,Lifting distressful hands, as if to bless.And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall,— By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.With a thousand fears that vision's face was grained;Yet no blood reached there from the upper ground,And no guns thumped, or down the flues made moan.“Strange friend,” I said, “here is no cause to mourn.” “None,” said that other, “save the undone years,The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours,Was my life also; I went hunting wildAfter the wildest beauty in the world,Which lies not calm in eyes, or braided hair,But mocks the steady running of the hour,And if it grieves, grieves richlier than here.For by my glee might many men have laughed,And of my weeping something had been left,Which must die now. I mean the truth untold,The pity of war, the pity war distilled.Now men will go content with what we spoiled.Or, discontent, boil bloody, and be spilled.They will be swift with swiftness of the tigress. None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress.Courage was mine, and I had mystery;Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery: To miss the march of this retreating worldInto vain citadels that are not walled.Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels, I would go up and wash them from sweet wells,Even with truths that lie too deep for taint.I would have poured my spirit without stintBut not through wounds; not on the cess of war.Foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were.“I am the enemy you killed, my friend.I knew you in this dark: for so you frownedYesterday through me as you jabbed and killed.I parried; but my hands were loath and cold.Let us sleep now. . . .”

During a dull, dark, and soundless day in autumn, when the clouds hung oppressively low, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country. At length I found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher. I know not how it was but, with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit. I looked upon the scene before me; upon the mere house, and the simple landscape—upon the bleak walls—upon the vacant eye-like windows, upon a few rank marsh plants, and upon a few white trunks of decayed trees with an utter depression of soul which I can compare to no earthly sensation. What was it, I paused to think, what was it that so unnerved me about the House of Usher? It was possible, I reflected, that a mere different arrangement of the scene, of the details of the picture, would be sufficient to modify, or perhaps to annihilate its capacity for sorrowful impression. Then, acting upon this idea, I reined my horse to the precipitous brink of a black and lurid lake near the dwelling, and gazed down upon the warped reflection of the marsh plants, and the ghastly tree-stems, and the vacant eye-like windows.     Nevertheless, in this mansion of gloom I now proposed to take a sojourn of several weeks. Its proprietor, Roderick Usher, had been one of my friends in boyhood. Although, many years had passed since we last met. A letter, however, had reached me in a distant part of the country. A letter from him, which had required nothing less than a personal reply. Usher's letter spoke of illness,of a mental disorder which oppressed him and of an earnest desire to see me, as his best and indeed his only personal friend. His desire being, that through my cheerfulness, I could help to alleviate his malady. It was the way in which it was said, it was the heart that went with his request, which allowed me no room for hesitation; and I accordingly obeyed forthwith.3Which detail from the passage develops the theme that true friends can always be counted upon in times of need? A. A letter, however, had reached me in a distant part of the country. B. Nevertheless, in this mansion of gloom I now proposed to take a sojourn of several weeks. C. Its proprietor, Roderick Usher, had been one of my friends in boyhood. D. Usher's letter spoke of illness,of a mental disorder which oppressed him and of an earnest desire to see me . . .

Question 8 of 17Read this excerpt from Frankenstein, which is from Dr. Frankenstein's perspective:I passed the night wretchedly. Sometimes my pulse beat so quickly and hardly, that I felt the palpitation of every artery; at others, I nearly sank to the ground through languor and extreme weakness. Mingled with this horror, I felt the bitterness of disappointment: dreams that had been my food and pleasant rest for so long a space, were now become a hell to me; and the change was so rapid, the overthrow so complete!How does this passage best illustrate Victor's development as a character over the course of the novel?A.It shows that he goes from someone doubtful of his abilities to reach his goal to someone confident in his ability to succeed.B.It shows that he goes from a man who wants to help the world to someone determined to kill another living being.C.It shows that he goes from a man seeking love and happiness to someone who believes that neither one is possible.D.It shows that he goes from a man who delights in the company of other people to someone who seeks isolation.SUBMITarrow_backPREVIOUS

As soon as I sufficiently recovered my senses to comprehend the terrific predicament in which I stood or rather hung, I exerted all the power of my lungs to make that predicament known to the æronaut overhead. But for a long time I exerted myself in vain. Either the fool could not, or the villain would not perceive me. Meantime the machine rapidly soared, while my strength even more rapidly failed. I was soon upon the point of resigning myself to my fate, and dropping quietly into the sea, when my spirits were suddenly revived by hearing a hollow voice from above, which seemed to be lazily humming an opera air. Looking up, I perceived the Angel of the Odd. He was leaning with his arms folded, over the rim of the car ; and with a pipe in his mouth, at which he puffed leisurely, seemed to be upon excellent terms with himself and the universe. I was too much exhausted to speak, so I merely regarded him with an imploring air

Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul.In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed.Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll. I am the master of my fate:I am the captain of my soul.(C. Write the correct answer on the line before each number, then, discuss your answers in class.1. What is the main quality of the person speaking in the poem?a. has a strong personalityb. hard-workingC. fond of fights and quarreld. has a low self-esteem2. What idea is best expressed in the poem?a. optimismb. successC. pessimismd. happiness3. In line 13, the gate may refer toa. hopeb. doorC. advertisementd. life4. What aspect of truth about life does the selection share?erpret wha5.a. working harmoniously with othersb. taking pleasure in the bounties of natureC. courage to succeed in lifed. the importance of educationWhat description of a man may be gleaned from the poem?a. a man who never gave upb. a man who tried everythingC. a man who earned the medalsd. a man stepping into a new world6. Horror in line 10 may refer toa. broken heartsb. deathC. sadnessd. circumstance7. What images are created or developed in the poem?a. tough experiencesb. unhappy personal experiencesC. man and natured. a wonderful journey8. What incident in the poet's life influenced him in composing the "Invictus"? poem,a. his experiences with his familyb. the challenge to his healthC. his writing career experiencesd. his love life crisis9. "It matters not how strait the gate How charged with punishments the scrollI am the master of my fate:I am the captain of my soul."This stanza of the poem creates a picture of aa. remarkable man with achievementb. man of great compassion for othersC. man trying to control his destinyd. man's dreams that changed10. The symbol used in line 14, "How charged with punishments the scroll may refer toa. heavy beatingb. impossible dreamsC. way of livingd. man's experience

Nothing can describe the confusion of thought which I felt when I sank into the water. Though I swam very well, I could not deliver myself from the waves so as to draw breath, till that wave having driven me, or rather carried me, a vast way on towards the shore, and having spent itself, went back, and left me upon the land almost dry, but half dead with the water I took in. I had so much presence of mind, as well as breath left, that seeing myself nearer the mainland than I expected, I got upon my feet, and endeavored to make on towards the land as fast as I could before another wave should return and take me up again. However, I soon found it was impossible to avoid it; for I saw the sea come after me as high as a great hill, and as furious as an enemy, which I had no means or strength to contend with: my business was to hold my breath, and raise myself upon the water if I could. By swimming, I could preserve my breathing, and pilot myself towards the shore, if possible. My greatest concern now being that the sea, as it would carry me a great way towards the shore when it came on, might not carry me back again with it when it gave back towards the sea.     The wave that came upon me again buried me at once twenty or thirty feet deep in its own body. I could feel myself carried with a mighty force and swiftness towards the shore a very great way, but I held my breath, and assisted myself to swim still forward with all my might. I was ready to burst with holding my breath, when, as I felt myself rising up, so, to my immediate relief, I found my head and hands shoot out above the surface of the water. Though it was not two seconds of time that I could keep myself so, yet it relieved me greatly, gave me breath, and new courage. I was covered again with water a good while, but not so long but I held it out; and finding the water had spent itself, and began to return, I struck forward against the return of the waves, and felt ground again with my feet. I stood still a few moments to recover breath, and till the waters went from me, and then took to my heels and ran with what strength I had further towards the shore. But neither would this deliver me from the fury of the sea, which came pouring in after me again; and twice more I was lifted up by the waves and carried forward as before, the shore being very flat.     The last time of these two had well-nigh been fatal to me, for the sea having hurried me along as before, landed me, or rather dashed me, against a piece of rock, and that with such force, that it left me senseless, and indeed helpless, as to my own deliverance. The blow taking my side and breast, beat the breath as it were quite out of my body; and had it returned again immediately, I must have been strangled in the water; but I recovered a little before the return of the waves. Seeing I should be covered again with the water, I resolved to hold fast by a piece of the rock, and so to hold my breath, if possible, till the wave went back. Now, as the waves were not so high as at first, being nearer land, I held my hold till the wave abated, and then fetched another run, which brought me so near the shore that the next wave, though it went over me, did not so swallow me up as to carry me away. The next run I took, I got to the mainland, where, to my great comfort, I clambered up the cliffs of the shore and sat me down upon the grass, free from danger and quite out of the reach of the water.3Select ALL the correct answers.Which two statements should be included in a summary of the passage? Because of rough and powerful waves, Crusoe struggles to get to shore. Crusoe is afraid he will be pulled further out to sea by the strong current When a wave crashes him against a rock, Crusoe fears the worst. Crusoe scales a grassy cliff and watches the waves at a safe distance. The sea repeatedly batters Crusoe, but he does not give up hope for survival.